The Existence of Forgetting
by incandescent euphoria
Summary: Sarah struggles to discover the cause of her ongoing misery when a message from the past confirms her belief that not all is as it should be. Strange visions haunt her dreams, leading her to wonder if a memory forgotten can be regained, or if it should.
1. Prologue

Summary: Five years after solving the Labyrinth, Sarah is finally beginning to settle into life as an adult after experiencing a sudden, unexplainable depression months before; however, a strange discovery gives her cause to believe that perhaps the depression wasn't quite as unexplainable as she previously thought, and she's willing to bet that it all comes down to one Goblin King.

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_Prologue_

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What's broken is broken. No matter how you place the pieces, no matter how similar it is to the old, it will never be whole again. Not truly. The cracks will remain, perhaps painted over, but there, nonetheless. It will never be as solid, as secure. Even the slightest wind could manipulate the fractures, make it quaver, send it tumbling to the ground in fragments. Broken once more. 

A fitting description of Sarah's life.

The world was dull and vacuous. A bottomless lake, its water stagnant and obscure; the forgotten wishes of children grown and dreamers who realized reality sank slowly through the sluggish water, motionless and lifeless in their never-ending descent.

Before the Labyrinth she had simply drifted with the current, eyes closed, oblivious to the waves of horrific blandness that enveloped her. Oh, she had had imagination, perhaps a bit more than others, but that was all it was. A daydream here, a fantasy there, but nothing concrete, nothing _real. _She had never been satisfied with the lack of magic, of adventure, in her life, but she had accepted it. She had longed for it, hoped for it, but hadn't truly believed in it.

It was the Labyrinth the had snapped her eyes open, made her struggle against the water as it attempted to overwhelm her, conquer her, make her complacent once more. She had clamped her dreams tightly against her chest, using them as a life vest, though they only served to hamper her, to weigh her down. She had kicked furiously, gasping for air as her every muscle burned in her attempt to stay above the surface. She was becoming exhausted, tired of fighting against something so large, when she was so small. She just wanted to loose her grip, let her dreams sink, so she could finally rest.

Yet how could she, now that she knew it _wasn't_ a fantasy? It existed, as surely as she did, as surely as the monotonous world she lived in. Of course, she hadn't realized it was quite so colorless before. How could she? It was as if ever since birth she had been surrounded by varying shades of gray, never realizing or even suspecting that other colors existed. How could a blind woman know what color looks like if she has never seen it? Entering Jareth's kingdom enabled her to see every existing color, to see what she had always imagined was there, a world in which everything really _was _possible.

Ignorance was bliss. Now returned to her realm of gray, she continued to fixate on what could have been.

A vision of mismatched eyes and wild blond hair appeared briefly before she shook her head violently, hoping to rid herself of both the memory and the melancholic stab in her abdomen that threatened to spill tears down her cheeks.

_She had done the right thing._

The thought she had intended to be reassuring did nothing to stave off the uncertainty; that whispering, slithering voice that both questioned and denied.

'_Are you certain?' _it inquired mockingly.

_'He didn't love me, he didn't care for me! Why should I have stayed?' _She snapped at it, fruitless in her efforts to quiet the oily words that seemed to leak from the dam she had placed in her mind to hold back the thoughts she refused to explore.

'_Yet you pine away for him, anyways. How many times have you bitten your tongue to keep yourself from calling to him? How many times have you awoken, joyful from dreams of being in his arms, only to break into tears once you discovered it was only your wishful mind playing tricks on you?'_

Sarah worried her lip between her teeth, disturbed by truth in the words. When she had first returned from the Labyrinth, she had been ecstatic. She had defeated the evil (if devastatingly handsome) Goblin King and discovered the world of magic she had always imagined. Yet as the months wore on, and she was faced with the unimaginative existence in which she was forced to live, she withdrew within herself. Why speak to people who scoffed at her imagination, however child-like it may be? Why should she associate with people who looked down on her with disdain for believing in things as foolish as goblins? It was _they_ who deserved to be laughed at, they deserved _her_ scorn for not having faith something as certain as the ground they walked on, albeit it may be a bit more difficult to find.

Two years after Sarah left the Labyrinth the inevitable occurred, and she finally grew up. Finally able to see things from a mature point of view, she found herself constantly replaying her time with the Goblin King within her mind. The words she had previously felt mere confusion at caused her stomach to flutter with implied meaning. The moments she recalled experiencing victory, she began to think of with regret. Her emotions toward the Goblin King began to transform from fear and dislike into fascination and longing. Soon she began to refer to him as Jareth, excluding his title altogether. Dreams of reunions with Hoggle, Ludo, and Sir Didymus morphed into fantasies of the embrace of the Goblin King, of sweet whispered words, of happiness bubbling within the depths of her stomach and outward to her lips, stretching a euphoric grin upon her lips in both reality and reverie.

She unconsciously brought her fingers to her mouth as if in remembrance of actions yearned for but never committed. His name lingered on her lips, her tongue threatened to form the vowels, and even as her mind screamed in warning and fear, the word spilled out and echoed in her ears before she registered what had occurred.

Sarah sensed his presence behind her before he spoke. The hairs on her arms stood on end and the back of her neck prickled with alertness. The air in her room seemed to thicken, charged with an energy she hadn't noticed before but now recognized as a sensation that always accompanied Jareth. Her hands began to tremble in apprehension as her heart beat quickened to an unnatural pace; her limbs were incapable of movement, locked in place as adrenaline rushed through her veins.

"Sarah."

His voice manipulated the fractures in her worn body and mind, made her knees quaver, sent her tumbling to the ground. Broken once more.

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_I love and cherish all reviews, so please do so. _


	2. A Message

AN: Thank you all for your reviews!

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_A Message_

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_The leaves of memory seem to make_

_A mournful rustling in the dark_

_-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_

**S**he only withdrew from the box when she felt she could bear the ache in her back no longer. Reaching her hands above her head in an attempt to stretch the pain out, Sarah finally acknowledged her body's need for rest. She had been in the attic since nine in the morning, eager to get the dull task of going through her childhood things over and done with, only a little discouraged by the mountain of boxes she had encountered. It certainly hadn't been an enjoyable day, she had tangled herself in multiple spider webs and had seen far more rats than she would like to believe lived in her home, the preferred number being zero. Still, glancing at the small pile of cardboard boxes remaining for her to search, Sarah was proud of her work and was ready for a well-deserved snack.

After easing herself down the ladder she nearly jogged to the kitchen, suddenly anxious for a glass of water. Karen and her Father were already there, eating lunch with a now seven-year-old Toby, whom, despite his full mouth, screamed her name at her arrival.

"Sarah!" announced her father, giving her a smile as Karen busied herself cleaning the food Toby had spewed out of his mouth. "I was wondering when you would emerge!"

Sarah grinned and leaned over to snatch the half sandwich off of his plate, ignoring his chagrined look.

"I've been very busy." She replied, feigning irritation.

"Of course you are," Karen finally spoke, "The process of moving out is a difficult one. I would be amazed if you weren't busy."

Her father gave her an assessing stare as if he was checking her body for injuries.

"I still think you should just stay here for the rest of college. Living here has worked well for the past two years."

Sarah sighed and rolled her eyes. She knew he just wanted what was best for her, but his tendency to treat her as if she was twelve years old grew wearisome quickly.

"You all know how much I love you," she did her best to sound reassuring, "but it's time that I start living on my own. It's not like I'll disappear, you'll still _see_ me."

Her father shook his head, rising from the chair to stand before her and placing large hands on her shoulders.

"You know that isn't the issue, Sarah. It can't be good for you to isolate yourself after everything," His tone was gentle but his words were the catalyst for the wave of icy dread that crashed over her and tore her body from his grip as she stumbled back.

"I am _fine_, Dad," Despite her effort, the tremor in her voice was obvious, and even as a concerned Karen rushed to her side to wrap comforting arms around her, she was desperately struggling to shove away the despair that crawled through her veins and settled with a deep ache in her chest. She was entrapped in Karen's embrace, her limbs weighing her down like shackles, and her father's voice sounded monotone against the thundering beat of her heart against her chest.

"Let me go," Was her broken whisper, and she fought against the chains of flesh and bone. She bolted out the kitchen door; she could hear them call after her, but it did nothing to dissuade her feet as they carried her up to the attic once more, where she collapsed on her knees. Her chest heaved with her gasping breaths and her fingers turned claw like as they clutched at the jeans on her thighs, fingernails sharp through the fabric.

Ever so slowly Sarah felt the misery abate and gradually her body relaxed, her breathing calmed, and she unraveled from her fetal position.

Seven months, Sarah, she thought derisively, _seven months and you still can't control it._

Kneeling on the hard wooden floor, hands trembling from the flush of emotion, head hanging; it was so much like before, in the early months. January 12th was the first day it had happened, and she was just as confused now as she was then, though her attacks of sadness were less common now, and less intense. She tried not to think about it, how she had rejected all food and company, choosing to sob alone in her room until she had no tears left to spare and instead would just stare at the wall with reddened accusing eyes, as if it knew why she was going mad with agony and refused to tell her.

"Why did this happen to me?" She breathed to the empty room, but the sound of her voice broke her out of her stupor and she pushed herself off the dusty floor. Turning once more to her boxes, she set her mouth in a line, determined to lose herself in work. With shaking hands she opened the nearest box and peered in, almost withdrawing instantaneously when she saw the lone book that lay inside.

The Labyrinth 

She felt a pang of grief in her chest; how she missed Sir Didymus and Ludo, and of course Hoggle. She had called them often after her journey through the Labyrinth, but as she got older she had less and less time for her friends, soon she stopped calling them at all. She briefly entertained the notion of calling them now, but was quick to reject it, knowing that it probably wouldn't even work anymore. She was careful to avoid thoughts of the Goblin King, the contrasting emotions she felt for him were far too complicated to think about now.

I was such a stupid girl, then, she thought with a shake of her head, _How could I have possibly wished Toby away?_

She stared down at the book warily, but nonetheless reached down and picked it up, smoothing her hands over the cover to rid it of the layer of dust upon it. A small smile etched itself upon her lips as she remembered how much she had adored this book, how she had constantly reenacted scene after scene of it. Caught up in childhood memories, she absent mindedly opened the book, only to see a small scrap of paper flutter from within the pages to the floor. She set the book back within the box, her eyebrows furrowing with interest, and bent to pick the parchment up. It was dusty, also, and she brushed it off before unfolding it. The print was elegant and neat but the ink was worn, and thus she had to squint to make the words out.

Meet me in the garden tonight. 8:00. 

Yours,

_Jareth _

Her hand went limp and the note slipped from her grasp as her lips moved incomprehensibly, only one word managed to tumble from her lips, made meaningless as she repeated it over and over.

"No." 

She backed away from the message, both confused and horrified, and suddenly her sorrow returned as strongly as it had been the very first day. Her body keeled over as if she was in physical pain as waves of despair pounded over her, and she was choking on her tears, their cause unknown, but the incredible anguish was overwhelming and it tore at her, and all she could manage to do was gasp a disjointed

"_Why?"

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AN: I know this must seem very confusing to some people, but I'm positive you will understand everything by the end of the story.

Please review!


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